


The Devotions

by stifledlaughter



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Bootblacking, CaPri Anthology 2017, Fluff, M/M, gratuitous references that they are both kings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 09:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11529849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stifledlaughter/pseuds/stifledlaughter
Summary: Damen completes the Veretian tradition of the Three Devotions - before the wedding, the betrothed must do three acts of devotion to prove their worth to their lover. Between the bootblacking, the horse grooming, and the crowning, Damen shows Laurent his love every step of the way.





	The Devotions

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a story for the @capri-anthology, put together by the fantastic @a-kielon ! This is the first time I've ever held my work in a published format in my hands, and guys, it felt GREAT.  
> Beta reader: @americancupsofbritishtea (a lovely big help!)  
> Artist: @andiavang (check out the art on their blog! :D )  
> All of the @'s refer to tumblr URLs.

 

Damen has stood in great halls, in wide battlefields, and in the jail cells of his own palace. He's led armies into battle, and put men and women of all shapes and sizes to their knees and on their backs, both in Akielos and beyond. 

But kneeling in the hay with a former slave girl as she plied him with brushes and small glass jars was definitely a new experience, and he felt out of depth in this servile position. Several times he had to remind himself why he was doing this, and why he didn't just have some servant ( _ not slave _ , he had to remind himself - things were different now, by his own bidding) do it for Laurent instead. 

He had asked around for the person who could teach him the art of bootblacking but also keep quiet, and several had directed him to this young woman who had been a pleasure slave until the Break of Freedom. Some of the other pleasure slaves had chosen to mirror the pet experiences in Vere, and the rest had left the castle, but she, in a bemusing move to Damen, had chosen a position that many would see as lower: tending leathers. 

"And here are the brushes you'll need, plus the dubbin and cloth," she said. "So let's practice on the saddle here." 

He tried to keep up as she showed him how to properly work the leather with one of the soft cloths she had lightly dipped in water. After a few minutes, he began to see the pattern in her movements, and started to follow suit.

"Once that's done, here is how you do the leather cleaning. Pay attention, elsewise it'll get too soppy with dubbin."

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked her as she guided his hand in the right motions after dolloping on the dubbin.

"Since you and King Laurent took the throne back, Exalted." She removed her hand and motioned for him to start doing it himself.

He hesitated asking the next question, knowing that, as King, he had the power to ask anyone anything. That was why he hesitated. 

"Do you enjoy your freedom?" 

She paused for a moment, thinking, as if she might regret the words but would regret their absence more. She then asked him quietly, "Do you enjoy yours, Exalted?"

 

\------------------------

 

**The First Act of Devotion**

Damen had specifically targeted this time to be after Laurent had returned from riding through the countryside with his surveying team all day, mapping out new borders of the small towns that were both alarmed and invigorated by the influx of former slaves now living on their own in the towns outside the castle. The logistics were slow and difficult, as age-old prejudices against slaves came up against new laws, as well as the unwillingness to change in general. 

However, as Damen knew well, even the most stubborn, dig-your-heels-in-the-mud farmer was nothing compared to Laurent, and he expected no less than a successful day when the surveying party returned. 

When Damen heard the lock click in the door, he shuffled away the papers he had been working on and grabbed the sack under the table, setting it on top. His heart was beating quickly, and he tried to contain his excitement as Laurent came in the room, head down and weary from the long day.

"I can tell you're excited about something," noted Laurent, who had kneeled down and was beginning to unlace his boots. "I can hear your breathing from across the room."

"Don't untie the boots just yet," said Damen, taking the sack and moving closer. "I... I have one of the three acts of devotion for you tonight."

Laurent looked up, his eyebrow raised. "Oh, you're doing that?" 

Damen nodded. "I said I would, didn't I?"

"You also were recovering from your brother's stab wound. I imagine the tonics Paschal gave you would make you say a number of things. Like how you would fight Nikandros for not bowing when I entered the room, yet you could not even stand then." 

"That... yes, I perhaps didn't mean that, but I did mean I would do three acts of devotion."

Laurent had found it to be charmingly bizarre that Damen claimed he would do the Veretian tradition where one of the to-be-weds, before the wedding, would do three acts to show their devotion. Most of the time, people got out of it by doing three different new sex acts (usually taken from the books of positions that no one really ever used with names like "The Winding Snake" and "Yarn on the Spool"). Sometimes the slightly more sincere lovers would make a dinner or buy a gift, but after the second act, they usually went back to the book of positions.  (This was normally only done between couples who could not conceive, although a number of books ended up being given as gifts for engagement parties with couples who were waiting for their wedding night, with a sly wink.)

Laurent straightened up and opened his arms. "So, are we doing River in the Grass, or perhaps Lifting the Anvil? I've heard good things of that from the courtesans in the village. They didn't realize they were talking to a king, of course, just a starry-eyed almost-newlywed whose fiancé promised him devotions." 

Damen motioned for Laurent to sit, and then started to pull the items out of the bag. 

"Ah, Cleaning the Stallion, I see," said Laurent.

"How do you know all of these names?" 

"It's amazing what useful gossip you can pick up, meandering the pets' quarters and luxury halls of Arles."

Damen knelt, and Laurent tensed. "You don't have to--"

Damen smiled. "Not actually what I was going for -- although, I never  _ have _ to do anything. I would want to."

Laurent exhaled and leaned back, watching Damen cautiously, as if viewing a play he'd seen before, but realizing the plot was slowly changing. "Yes. Continue."

Damen took the cleaning cloth out, and uncapped the flask of water. "My first act of devotion to you -- cleaning your boots." 

A comfortable silence fell between them as Damen wiped away the grit of the day from Laurent’s boot and Laurent slowly relaxed, his back sliding down along the chair and his head tilting back. Damen knew that if he looked up and focused on the smooth, slim throat, he would quickly abandon his devotion, and so he refrained, as he knew he must follow through. 

Devotion, after all, means denying yourself sometimes. 

He pressed in with the cloth, taking away the dirt and rinsing the cloth clean to work out the tiny pebbles in the heels. "The slave --  _ servant _ I spoke to used to be a pleasure slave."

"Well, how would you rate her?" said Laurent lazily from above, his lips twitching slightly. 

"I did not--" spluttered Damen, but Laurent laughed. 

"I know, Damen. I know." He reached down and gently, but firmly, grasped Damen's curls, who lightly gasped and stopped cleaning. "No. Continue."

"She -- she taught me this, and as we were speaking, I asked her if she enjoyed her freedom."

"And?" 

"She asked me if I enjoyed mine." 

Laurent hummed. "A curious question for a king."

Damen looked up at Laurent. "I was not always free." 

The moment hung between them, the weight of the past forever on their backs, made lighter with the love they had found. Yet...

"You still choose to kneel for me." Laurent seemed to be on the verge of something, words at the edge of his lips. 

"Laurent," said Damen gently. He continued to clean the boots, firmly pressing his hands in and massaging deep into the boot, reaching Laurent's feet. Laurent sighed out, and leaned back.

"You choose to kneel for me. Still. After all I did to you."

"As you knelt to save me."

Laurent smiled and gently tugged on Damen's curls. "And I would do it again."

Damen switched to the dubbin, and began to rub it in. He noticed that Laurent had begun to tense up again. "You're supposed to relax. That's half of this." 

"How often do I honestly relax?"

Damen smirked as he started to cover further up the boot. "You're fairly boneless after we make love, if I recall last night well at all." 

Laurent flushed and looked aside, saying, "Well, if you didn't... If... I..."

Damen rose from his knees to gently kiss his king's forehead. "Maybe you can better explain it to me without words?"

Laurent pushed Damen's head down by the grip in his hair, his rare laughter causing Damen's heart to feel lighter, brighter. "Finish my boots, and then I'll be able to take them off and show you."

  
  


**The Second Act of Devotion**

 

Laurent was particular about his horse. He picked exactly which stable workers would touch his horse, and received frequent check ups from the palace veterinarians on all of his care. Damen knew that if Laurent needed respite from the stress of the day, he could find his lover in the stables, particularly after negotiations or a rather onerous diplomatic dinner. 

So this act of devotion Damen approached with caution but also with the hope that if it went well it would pay off immensely. 

Laurent's horse was a beautiful gray stallion, his mane immaculately braided, and his tack clean and hanging up on the wall of the stable. As much as Laurent excelled with his skill in intrigue and ruling a kingdom, Damen knew that a hidden side of him took pride in being able to keep his horse and the tack in pristine condition. Damen knew that many nobles and ruling folk tended to just drop the reins and let the stable keepers tend to their horses, but Laurent wasn't the type to let one of his most prized possessions be handled by someone else so carelessly. 

Damen had calculated exactly when to start saddling up the horse--when Laurent was scheduled to breakfast with the visiting Patran governing board of sailing trade route associations. Given what he had heard Laurent bitterly complaining about the night before (“We blocked off that route due an active volcano, the idiots, not due to a scheming trade agreement with Vask... these utter  _ fools _ …”), he suspected that Laurent would be tied up for at least thirty minutes longer than scheduled. This meant his weekly ride out to the village to talk to the shopkeepers’ guild in person would be delayed, meaning Damen could speed up the process and saddle his horse for him. 

As Damen took out the supplies and began the familiar process of preparing Laurent’s horse, he mused over the progress of Laurent’s kingship. Not yet crowned (although Damen had plans for that), Laurent still answered to the Council more than a King would, and sometimes ran into frustrating blocks involving the combination of Vere and Akielos. Damen quickly learned to step back and let Laurent hold the problem in his grasp, either crushing it mercilessly, or maneuvering it so that the Council believed it was their idea all along. 

It was incredible to watch. Damen was normally bored by these meetings, preferring to speak to the common folk who had problems he could solve with his preferred hands-on approach, and who rarely ever tried to deliberately trick him. One of his biggest successes was creating a council of commoner shopkeepers who worked with purchasers within the castle grounds and noble houses, and created a bridge between the two that benefitted the surrounding village immensely. 

This is what he preferred -- seeing results, directly involving himself, and knowing that he could tangibly feel this difference. Laurent, on the other hand, reveled in the chase, and exhilarated in out-clevering people, regardless of the goal. This balance allowed them to rule side by side, neither truly stepping on each other’s toes. 

Which is why his acts of devotion were hands on. He knew that sometimes Laurent got wrapped up in his own head, his body just something he had to feed and rest in order to achieve his goals. It took a good meal, a satisfying night of lovemaking, or the exhilaration of riding horseback to bring him back. 

He was lost in the ritual of his work, humming a tune, occasionally patting the horse. After a while, he heard a loud, “I wanted you to hear me”-kind of dramatic sigh, and looked back over his shoulder to see Laurent there, eyebrows raised. 

“Laurent!” Damen reached out to hug his lover but then realized that he was slightly dirty from tidying up the storage area while getting the horse ready. “I- how did the meeting go?” 

“We fixed a few routes, convinced the trade association it was their idea, and I got us five hundred pounds of salted fish as a bonus.” Laurent shrugged. “Was aiming for a thousand, but they’re not as loose with their goods as I had hoped. Should still be a nice bonus for our sailors as they finish up the routes with all of the detours they’ll do around the volcano.”

Damen grinned. “You’re amazing.” 

Laurent stepped forward, running his hands over his horse. “Another act of devotion?”

“One left.” 

Laurent inspected the tack meticulously, running his slim fingers over every strap and buckle. “Adequate.”

“I’ve been doing this since I could stand. I could probably reach the horse before you even knew what the word for the beast was.”

“Not everyone has the pleasure of being gigantic enough to saddle a horse at what, five years of age?”

“Seven.”

Laurent swung himself up on the horse, and even at that height, it was fairly easy for him to kiss Damen goodbye. 

“Come to our room right after the next talks,” said Damen.

“More devotion? You spoil me.”

“Consider this the courting we never had.” 

  
  


**The Third Act of Devotion**

 

Technically, this could be considered several acts of devotion, but Damen decided that the last act should be the strongest and the most impressive.

He unwrapped the package from the cloth that the courier had just dropped off, and was careful to keep his hands in the linen as he lifted the shining crown into the air.

It was a simple circlet, but weighty. It had a design of olive and grape leaves intertwined on it, shimmering in the reflection of the setting sun. Gold, simple, and elegant had been his request. The blacksmith had been concerned that his work was too simple for a king, who deserved jewels and elegant inlays and silver, but Damen insisted, and that was that. 

Damen did, after thinking on how to best honor Laurent's ascent to the crown, request that two blue sapphires be on either end of the almost-close of the circlet, where the two ends would have met but were left open. He understood how much Nicaise meant to Laurent, and how Nicaise was instrumental in where they were today. He paused a moment, feeling the weight in his hands as the blue sapphires glimmered in the fading gold light. 

Traditionally, the abdicating ruler would crown the ascending ruler, such as a regent or the older king or queen who could no longer adequately perform their duties. In the event of death leading to the ascension of a new ruler, the former ruler’s Chief Advisor would crown the ascending leader. 

To his knowledge, Damen was the first living, ruling king to crown another living, ruling king. This caused a fuss from many who believed that this would be a symbolic gesture of Damen handing off his power to Laurent. 

Damen did not particularly care what these muttering rumors were about -- he would crown Laurent with the hands that had bled for the rightful Veretian king. And if needed, he would bleed again. 

_ The council members aren’t Kings, who are they to tell me I cannot crown my lover? _

There was a knock on the door, and Damen startled, almost dropping the crown. He hid it underneath his chiton, not realizing it was awkwardly placed until Laurent stepped in, looking directly at Damen’s right hand down between his thighs. He sighed. “Damen. We’ve talked about this.”

Damen quickly sat down on the bed and shifted so the crown was hidden in the folds of the chiton, and removed his hand. “I was adjusting my chiton, Laurent.” 

Laurent looked down at Damen, and then up at his eyes again. “This is most definitely how Stream in the Grass begins.”

Damen frowned. “I thought it was River in the Grass.”

Laurent shrugged. “Popular regional variation.” 

Damen motioned for Laurent to sit down. “Well, that aside, yes, this is the third act of devotion, and…” He pulled the crown out from where he had hidden it, and Laurent’s eyes widened. “I asked the blacksmith to make you this. Designed it and everything.” Damen’s hands trembled as he placed it in Laurent’s open palms. “Is it fitting for a king?”

“Yes,” breathed out Laurent, who looked unusually caught off guard. He began blinking rather rapidly. “I… I thought--”

“I am ignoring the Council. I designed your crown and I’ll be crowning you, here, and in a few weeks, on that throne. No one is taking that right away from me.” 

Apparently, neither could Laurent, who looked down and reached out to touch the crown, gently, with cautious, trembling fingers. 

“Thank you,” whispered Laurent. He moved his hand to cover Damen’s and squeezed it as he said, “I didn’t want to wear what he wore.”

Damen suddenly realized that Laurent normally would have worn the crown passed down from his line, and that he would have had to wear that same crown the Regent had tainted. He leaned forward and squeezed Laurent tightly and kissed what he could reach. Sometimes, it was better than words. 

Laurent shifted against him and leaned back, his long hair falling around his face as he looked down at Damen. He pressed his forehead to Damen’s and whispered, very softly, “Crown me.” Laurent rolled off of Damen and stood, hand extended to pull Damen up. 

Damen followed. He would always follow. 

They stood there for a moment, two kings, two lovers, two former princes who had clawed their way to their throne together. 

“Face the window,” said Damen softly, and Laurent turned towards the setting sun. The view was spectacular, edging on twilight. There were soft, glowing candles already lit in the room, which infused the space with a warm intimacy. There would be none of this closeness and quiet during the official ceremony, but no one had to know that this was the first, and true, crowning of one of the new kings of their combined lands. 

Damen lifted the crown and slowly settled it onto Laurent’s head, pleased that the warm tones of the crown shone to brighten his lover’s hair.

“I crown thee,” whispered Damen to Laurent, bending down as Laurent overlooked the view outside the window, their kingdom, “King Laurent of the combined lands of Vere and Akielos, rightful ruler and heir to the throne, lover and future husband of King Damianos.” He gently turned Laurent around, and kissed him on the forehead, nose bumping the crown. “Long live my king.” 

The moment, which had been sweet and calm before, suddenly shifted when Laurent looked up at Damen with a glint in his eyes. “Yes. Your King.” And then he grabbed Damen by the shoulders, and kissed him fiercely. 

Damen gripped Laurent tightly in return, hands moving to that slim, muscled ass that he loved, kissing back with equal intensity. They stumbled back to the bed, caught in their passion, falling back and laughing.

It had taken a while before Laurent relaxed in bed and laughed, or smiled, or made a mistake without completely retreating (like the disastrous “surprise teeth” incident that caused the guards to burst in the room when Damen screamed). At first, if he thought he had displeased Damen, he would move away and go completely silent, but with many gentle words and enough space for Laurent to breathe, they had gotten to a place where touch was easy and laughter commonplace. 

Damen smiled up at Laurent, who had situated himself on top of Damen, straddling him, hands on his lover’s chest. Damen was still holding onto Laurent’s hips, fingers loosely curving around his warm body.

“Aren’t we going to unclothe at some point?” asked Damen jokingly. 

“Everything?” said Laurent, some slight hesitation in his voice under the confidence he had slowly began to transfer from his public life to their inner life. 

Damen grinned. “Leave the crown on.”

Laurent looked mildly scandalized but also incredibly intrigued, and after some very flexible moves and quick-fingered unlacing, he was completely naked except for the shining crown on his head. 

Damen, even on his back and straddled by Laurent, managed to unpin and push away most of the fabric to allow for access. He could afford to rip a chiton or two anyway. He was, after all, a king.

As they both were.

Damen slid his hands softly up his lover’s chest, smiling broadly. “What would my king desire?”

Laurent flushed, and then leaned forward to grip Damen’s curls. “Your mouth.”

Damen smiled and wrapped his arms around Laurent and shifted the both of them, settling him back against the headboard. Damen kissed down Laurent’s smooth stomach, nuzzling the blond trail of hair there. Laurent leaned back against the headboard, the crown clinking against the wood. 

Damen began to slowly kiss and lick over Laurent’s cock, and Laurent groaned, his hips arching up into Damen’s mouth. Damen buried his face into Laurent’s skin and Laurent gasped, small and breathless, catching in his throat. 

“Please,” said Laurent, his voice rough. “Please--”

And then Damen sank his mouth down on Laurent, and Laurent cried out, reaching out and holding Damen, gasping, banging his head back on the headboard, crown clattering loudly against it as he arched up into his lover. 

In the quiet moments after, Damen moved back up to Laurent’s chest, resting his head there, feeling the heart rapidly beating, slowly returning to a normal pace. 

The crown had slipped slightly, but was still firmly on Laurent’s head. Damen pushed it back to its rightful spot and then settled further into Laurent’s warm torso. 

“I never thought I’d get the devotions,” said Laurent, breaking the warm, comfortable quiet. 

Damen moved up, kissing Laurent softly, and then going further up and kissing the crown. “I’m not stopping at three devotions. You’re stuck with them for life.”

“Does that Bucket Down the Well count as a devotion then?” Laurent laughed softly, quietly, a golden small moment in the aftermath of passion. Damen kissed his lover’s head.

Laurent nuzzled Damen, softly smiling through his exhaustion. “I look forward to the devotions… my King.” 


End file.
